The Step Series
by EliseRedding
Summary: Sequel to the Barrier Series. Sometimes things aren't as tidy as we'd like them to be.
1. Step Forward

_**The Step Series**_

FIC: The Step Series sequel to the Barrier Series

AUTHOR: Elise

RATING: pg overall

I. Step Forward

Shocked, Don moved back from the peep hole and let Charlie into his apartment. The mathematician was shaking, his clothes dripping wet. Don made him stay in the front foyer until he could find a towel. Charlie's eyes were downcast. Normally, Don would have scolded him, or told him to go home, but the sadness was back. Charlie had been really quite depressed recently, and Don had thought the worse was over. That was before he showed up wet, sad, thinner and at - Don checked the clock - three in the morning. Don, while draping the towel over Charlie's shoulders, led him to the bathroom. "Hey, Charlie, let me grab you some dry clothes.. you want a shower or something?"

Charlie shook his head no. Don nodded and left to find some clothes. Charlie was shorter than him, but their clothes usually swapped. Walking towards the bathroom, Don noticed that Charlie had wandered off to the living room, looking around at his tapes. Don cleared his throat, "Charlie?"

Charlie looked up, "Don, nice movie collection, when did you get 'A League of their Own?' "

Don noticed the smirk on Charlie's face and he mock glared. "Listen, I can just as easily shove you out of my apartment."

"I'm just asking a question. You a big Madonna fan?" Charlie chirped.

Don walked over and pulled Charlie back to the bathroom, "I told you that you're

always going through my stuff. Now tell me whats going on, and don't say you wanted to watch a movie... besides, that movie belongs to Terry."

Charlie laughed, although it wasn't a very enthusiastic one, "Sure, Don. It was Terry's movie."

Don turned as Charlie changed from his wet clothes. The two sat down together, after Charlie made himself tea. Don turned on the tv, "Is this alright? You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

Charlie nodded, "I know... actually, I was wondering if I could crash on the couch?"

Don smiled, "Of course. I get up early though, so you gotta keep it clean, and no. math. papers. everywhere."

The mathematician began to focus on the tv screen, his eyes unfocused. He had been lost in his head a lot. About three weeks ago, he had seriously considered leaving his home and distancing himself from Don and his father. He had run off by himself to the park, worrying his family. He just felt like a burden, between random spurts of self hatred and lonliness. Don had been amazing lately. His tone was softer, his eyes more understanding. Don had invited him to have drinks with his coworkers. They even went to a ball game recently together. The kicker was when Don took a few days off from work to take Charlie on vacation. Charlie felt lucky, but felt guilty over what he was going to do that day in the park. Don placed his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie blinked, realizing that Don was directly in front of him, instead of opposite of him on the couch. "Yes?"

Don smiled sadly, "You alright, Charlie? I'm worried."

Charie shrugged and said, "You know how I've been seeing that psychiatrist?"

Don moved to Charlie's side, "Yeah, tell me about him... or her."

"Him. Dr. Feinman, ironically, just spelled differently." Charlie said, his hands starting to wring themselves.

"Feynman?" Don asked.

"Yeah... astrophysicist... atomic - you know, nevermind, I mean to say, his first name is Ethan and it was really strange. I didn't get a meeting with him until last week, and he..." Charlie drifted off, trying to find the perfect words.

Don encouraged his younger brother, happy that Charlie had chosen him to speak to, "Take your time Charlie, I'm here all night."

"I'm supposed to tell you about that day. In the park." Charlie said, blushing in embarassment.

"Go ahead, I won't judge you."

Charlie looked into Don's face, realizing that Don was telling the truth. Charlie bit his lip before continuing, "It wasn't exactly suicide."

Don, despite his best efforts, tried to stop his body from freezing up and his breath sharply intaking. Charlie noticed his subtle movements and quickly added, "It wasn't really. It was something else... I wasn't trying to kill myself."

Don nodded, "Ok... what were you trying to do?"

Charlie rubbed his face, his hands shaking. "I just... have you ever been so overly stressed that you wished your brain would shut down?"

"Yeah," Don said, "I've run thin at work before. Terry usually sends me home."

Charlie laughed again, both brothers knowing it was more sad than joyous, "Wish I had a Terry to send me home."

"Continue, Charlie, I need to know that you're alright." Don said, his voice a little scratchy, thinking of Charlie's confession.

Charlie nodded, "I was going to try to dumb myself down. I wanted to remove or at least alter my cognitive part of my brain. I just wanted to go to the park one last time before I did that. There was a statistically high chance that I wouldn't survive, and even if I did, I'd be retarded... but that didn't matter. I didn't want to die, i just wanted my defect to go away."

Don shook his head, his eyes full of concern, "Charlie, no... You don't have a defect. You're normal. I'm so sorry you felt that way. Have you felt that way since?"

Charlie nodded, "Tonight. I mean, I was doing well after our talks and then Ethan's sessions, but today... I just wanted to get rid of it. I didn't know where to go. I'm sorry for barging in."

"Barging in on what? I live alone, remember." Don said.

The older Eppes drew his brother closer to him, "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to take a shower. You're going to talk if you want to, or just stay here and watch tv. Tomorrow, I'll call in and we'll spend the day together. How does that sound?"

Charlie sipped his tea while Don spoke. His eyes seemed to light up for the first time since entering Don's apartment. "That sounds perfect, Don. Thank you."

Don smiled, "any time, and I mean that. I want to be good with you. I want to get to know you and understand you better. I'd like you to stop feeling the way you do. I'm proud of you for seeking help."

Charlie looked down, embarassed at the compliments. He wasn't used to them from Don, but Don had changed. Charlie stood up, and walked towards the bathroom. He turned before entering, "Hey Don?"

"Yeah Charlie?"

"Maybe we could watch A League of their Own?" He asked, a goofy grin on his face.

Charlie recieved no answer but the pillow slamming into the hastily shut bathroom door.


	2. step down

Fic: Step Down

Author: Elise

rating: G

summary/notes: A "sequel" to the Barrier Series. This is the Step Series, and is the second of the Series. The First one was called Step Forward.

Thank you for the response. I love you.

ii.

Step back

"You're going through review? Why? You had good reasons." David exclaimed, shocked that Don was one mistake from a disciplinary action at the FBI.

Don shrugged, "Because I'm not doing my job."

The words 'family first, right?' floated around Don's head, recalling what he had said to Charlie about Kim, his ex-fiancee. David shook his head, "That's unbelievable. You're the best agent we have. You used to have your own team for chrissake!"

Don stood, placing his hands up, "David, it's alright. It's not like this hasn't happened before. I used to work with Coop, remember? We did nothing but break rules. I just... I shouldn't be taking so much time off. I know its for good reason, but not good enough according to the FBI."

David shook his head in disbelief. "Merrick gives you the worst time."

"It's my fault. I shouldn't be taking so much time off from work to focus on Charlie. I'm just... he hasn't been good lately. He's said some upsetting things, and I wanted to watch out for him. I promised Dad I would."

"You have been. You've also been doing your job." David crossed his arms, "I should talk with Merrick."

"that's the opposite of what you should do, David. Listen, I know you're new here, but don't take it so personally. When you get your first disciplinary action, you'll understand."

"I've a clean record."

Don smiled, "I had a clean record at one point as well. Don't worry. Things will blow over."

David nodded, "if you say so. What's going on with Charlie?"

Don knew that David was still upset. He also knew that it was a combination of David reacting to seeing his friend get in trouble for caring for his younger brother, whom he also cared for. Don shrugged, "Depressed. Not as bad as when I spoke to you previously about it, but still worrisome. Its like he won't get out of it. He also appears to not be doing anything about it. He goes to the therapist, and nothing happens. Why we spend money on some doctor who can't fix Charlie, I have no idea."

"Maybe he doesn't need to be fixed?"

Don shook his head in disagreement. "He was contemplating messing with his brain chemistry so that he wasn't a math genius any more. That's... crazy. He's got a problem, and he needs to fix it. I can't keep taking days off to help him."

"It's been nice though?"

Don smiled, "Yeah, he's a larger baseball fan than I thought. He also, get this, when he was in college, he used to do all the stats for the college teams."

David watched as Don beamed about Charlie. It wasn't that Don had disliked Charlie previously. it seemed that Don had just realized that his little brother was someone to regard, to watch, to get to know. David nodded, "Good. well I guess you'll just have to spend less time with him, or plan things better."

Don shrugged, "I think I need to talk with him anyway. He's getting to a point where he's gotta take the reins of this thing. I just can't understand him all the time. I'm trying though, that counts, right?"

A new voice came up from behind the two agents, "What counts is the quality of work being done while someone is on the clock, Agent Eppes."

Don's jaw set and he turned to see Merrick, arms crossed. "Of course, sir."

"Good. Any leads on the recent case?" Merrick asked, leaning forward on his toes,

attempting to seem taller than Don.

"No sir. Our last witness' story has fallen through, so all connections made through that line of questioning have been abandoned." Don clarified, "We're very close to apprehending the arsonist, sir. Our witness' testimony wasn't that vital. It was a stretch at best."

"I don't care if it was a stretch, it is all we have. You're treading on thin ice, Eppes." Merrick said, before walking off.

Don flexed his fingers and cracked them. He took a deep breath, calming himself down. David opened his mouth to speak when Don raised his hand to silence the younger agent. "No. No. He's right. I let that lead slip through my fingers. Perhaps the pop can we found will have some prints, tying our guy to the scene. We just have to wait it out."

Don looked at the clock, "I'm going to drive those files to the LAPD, and go home. Call if I'm needed."

David watched Don walk from the office, noticing his tense shoulders, brisk walk and flexing fists. Don was angry, and as much as the man wanted to pretend, he just wasn't as good at hiding things as he thought he was.

Don had driven and dropped the files off, recieving some glares for being the "fed who busted them" back during the man hunt. After driving out his frustrations with Merrick, he turned towards CalSci. He knew that he needed to talk to Charlie about changing some things. Maybe medications? Maybe he should be sent away to one of those camps for kids with depression. Don mentally slapped himself. Charlie wasn't a kid. Sighing, Don thought about how much responsibility he felt towards his little brother. He wished that things would start improving, but apparently, it didn't look like that would be happening. Perhaps Charlie wasn't really talking to the therapist. Maybe he wasn't as active in fighting his depression as his family was. Don pulled up besides Charlie, who was just bringing his bike around. Charlie grinned and waved, riding up to the driver's side. "Hey Don, What's going on?"

"Thought I'd give you a lift home." Don said.

Charlie smiled, "Thanks. Anything I can help out on? You know, case wise..."

Don shook his head, "Just the arsonist. Nothing you can help with."

"Arsonists follow patterns, Don. I could try to figure out the point of origin or the next sites." Charlie insisted.

Don shook his head, "No. He's a tricky one. A murderer. Besides, you have other things to focus on. Get in."

Charlie shrugged and put his bike in the back and hopped in. Don was gripping the steering wheel, residue from the Merrick frustrations. Charlie looked out the window, "You think I won't get it?"

Don looked at Charlie and sighed, "No, Charlie... just trust me, ok? For once?"

Don winced when he noted his tone. He hadn't meant to be rude to Charlie, who seemed to shrink back a bit. "Sorry, Chuck, bad day."

"Salright."

"No. It's not. You've been depressed for weeks, and I have to yell at you. I'm sorry."

Charlie's eyes lowered into slits, as if he were confused. He turned his head towards the window. Perhaps, he thought, I shouldn't bother you with my problems. You'd get upset anyway.

Just as Don saught to protect Charlie, Charlie sought to protect Don. Charlie's feelings of burdening, guilt, and lonliness returning. Charlie knew it was a matter of time for Don's caring to wear off and his self-hatred to return. He took a deep breath. These blissful times together was merely a temporary fix. Even though there was not even a foot between them, Charlie seemed to shake like a leaf inside at the chasm that was beginning to widen between them.


	3. step back

STEP BACK part three of the Step Series

by ELISE

rated G/PG

NOTES: sequel to the Barrier Series

iii. Step back

Dusk was rapidly approaching and Larry, Amita, and Charlie were discussing Amita's thesis in a CalSci lecture hall. Amita crossed her arms, "Come on, Charlie, you can't deny how well the two doctorates will work together."

Charlie shrugged, "I know... I was just hoping you'd stay in Math."

Amita looked at Larry who jokingly grabbed Amita's arm, "She's mine, Charles!You'll never see her again!"

Amita swatted the bizarre physicist away, "Charlie, you sure you're ok with this?"

Charlie looked up from his calculations, apparently having fallen back into the mesmerizing equation. "I'm sorry, Amita... Yes, I am fine with it. I'm just glad that you're staying."

Amita's face lit up, but Charlie missed it, because he was looking at his shoes. Larry watched the dynamic between the two. Charlie had turned back to the chalkboard. They've all been a bit worried about him recently. He had been either lost in his math, or lost in space. He was dressing a bit shabbier, these days. His eyes were more tired, vexed, exhausted. He moved across the chalk board and then turned to his folders spilling with data. Amita watched at his spree, mesmerized slightly, barely holding up the conversation with Larry. She nodded a few times for the physicist. Charlie spun around again, knocking over some of the papers. She turned to Larry, and said in reference to Charlie, "He's always like this."

Due to Charlie completely ignoring the papers, Amita began to pick them up. She paused at what she saw. These weren't the data sheets for Larry's theory. There were articles on prodigies and depression. Clippings of recent prodigy suicides were clipped to the scattered sheets. Amita looked up, shocked. There were also a few stray sheets of medical journals, discussing the upper lobes and cognition. "Charlie... what is all of this? Are you suffering from depression?"

Charlie stopped and turned to look at what she was doing. He seemed at a loss for words but quickly covered his shock with a laugh. "Oh god, no. I'm fine. I'm just doing research for the psychology department. They figured they'd ask the prodigy about prodigies."

Charlie rolled his eyes, as if he'd been asked a great deal about being a prodigy and it annoyed him. Amita nodded, "oh? Psychology department has a research project?"

Charlie looked at her again, saying, "Yeah."

Larry walked to Amita's side and started to look through the information. "This data

doesn't seem to have any clear thesis, Charles. Why would you need obituaries?"

Charlie placed his chalk down and walked to the two, scooping up the papers, "Listen, it's a boring topic, and I'm sure you don't want to hear about it. I'll just take these and

we can get back to work."

Larry scratched his head, "Does it bother you that I looked at those? I'm sorry. I should have known that prodigy suicide would affect you. I mean, they very easily could have been you."

"Larry!" Amita exclaimed, "Don't say things like that. Charlie would never."

"Not saying he would, Amita, but he can relate to them. Always being prodded, and picked at growing up. I can't even imagine the frustrations, the lonliness, the negative side to being so brilliant." Larry leaned on the counter, his torso at an unnatural angle, but seemingly comfortable for the physicist.

Charlie took a deep breath, "Thanks Larry. You know, I don't really need to be reminded right now of how people treated me as a kid."

Amita looked at Charlie in concern. Softly, she asked, "You felt that way?"

Charlie looked at her, his eyes revealing slight panic, "Listen, I don't really want to talk about it, ok? I'm sorry. Can we get back to work?"

Without waiting for an answer, Charlie began to write furiously on the board again. Amita and Larry exchanged glances and walked back to their original places, picking their work up again. Charlie felt the silence in the room, and he sighed. He didn't mean to sound angry. He didn't mean to push away their concern either, especially Amita's. Would she ever want to be with someone as unstable as he was? Charlie looked at the data and lost his energy. He didn't really want to be in the room with these two, doing this work. He set the chalk down and turned to the others, hands resting on the desk. "Hey guys, I need to clear my head. I'm going for a walk."

Larry and Amita watched as Charlie didn't bother for a response and walked out. Larry turned to Amita and pointed at where Charlie had left. "Is Charles acting strange to you?"

Amita nodded, "Yeah. He seems upset. I think we should take a break as well. Maybe the work is getting to him."

Larry shrugged, "I can't see why. This has never been work to Charles. It's his joy."

Half way to the door, Amita shrugged, "I'm going to get some food and coffee, want anything?"

Larry shook his head, "I'm going to go to the psychology department. Whoever was in charge of this should know to lay off Charles."

Peeking his head through the department door, Larry scrunched his nose. He preferred to be in the physics department, where real science happened, in his opinion. He stepped in to the receptionist. "Can I help you? Looking for Cheryl?"

Larry raised an eyebrow, "The head of the department Cheryl, or a different Cheryl?"

"Well I was referring to the head of the department Cheryl Ligris. Who were you referring to?" The receptionist laughed.

Larry smiled and looked at his feet, "Cheryl Ligris would be great, is she in?"

"Unfortunately, She's in a meeting right now. I can answer questions or leave a message?"

"I was just inquiring about the Prodigy studies you folk did here. Dr. Charles Eppes has been helping, and I just wanted to talk to the advisor." Larry leaned on the counter, one hand in his hair.

The receptionist shook her head, "We haven't done prodigy studies. UCLA has a few people who worked on a project on that in 95, but nothing since then here or there."

Larry raised an eyebrow, "That's quite specific."

She laughed again, "We like to keep our eye on our own resident prodigy, Dr. Eppes. Once I began working here, it kindof piqued my interest. Unfortunately, though, we have no projects on the issue."

Larry nodded, "Interesting, my mistake. It must have been a different project. Thank you."

Larry turned and left, his chest feeling heavy. Charles had lied about those obituaries and the prodigy depression. That had to have been personal research. Larry bit his thumb nail and thought about his next course of action. Should he approach Charles? Should he go to the counseling center? Why was Charles looking at medical procedures on the cognitive parts of the brain? He wouldn't be that stupid. Larry sighed. What do you do when your best friend drifts away and there isn't a thing you can do about it?


	4. Side Step

Fic: Side Step

part four of a five part series

Sequel to the Barrier Series

AUTHOR: Elise

rating: pg

summary: Charlie is at a conference and deals with certain types of people.

notes: THANK YOU for everyone's patience! I was in vermont this past weekend, so i didn't get a chance to write this till now.

disclaimer: I do not own numb3rs, and nor have i ever or do claim to. Numb3rs belongs to CBS and Falacci/Heuton.

iv.

Charlie smiled as he finished his lecture. The group of three hundred scholars, teachers, and mathematicians stood up and applauded. Charlie's grin grew wider. He really did enjoy sharing his projects with others. Today they were in Sacramento, and he was the key note speaker on a new application for Pascal's Law. His algorithm would create a better way to determine the consistancy of natural disasters and their probability of frequencies. After answering a few questions, Charlie made his way from the hotel's conference room to the elevator, where he waited with a a collection of gentlemen.

There were three of them, all much older than Charlie. Charlie smiled politely. He had a slight anxiety about starting conversations. Charlie recognized one of them as Dr. Gerald Pfohl, a professor from Princeton. When Gerald caught Charlie's eye, he grinned widely and Charlie seemed to cringe. Pfohl had never been nice to him when Charlie attended Princeton. He had to correct Charlie constantly, even when Charlie knew that he was not in the wrong. Pfohl took great joy in making the young prodigy uncomfortable. Gerald walked up to Charlie, "It's good to see students of the past taking my knowledge and applying it to real life. How are you, Charles?"

Charlie smiled falsely, "Hello, Professor, I didn't expect to see you here, especially

since your specialty was in Algebraic applications and not fluid dynamics."

Pfohl raised an eyebrow and his chest puffed up, in defense. All the men knew that Charlie was pointing out that his lecture had nothing to do with Pfohl's teachings as was implied. Pfohl guffawed, "Perhaps spending too much time at CalSci has lessened your skills, Charles. all mathematical applications depend on each other. I celebrate in all areas of math, not just the ones I'm particularly, we'll say, genius at comprehending."

Charlie sighed and looked at the other men, hoping they had recognized all the hidden meanings and bitterness. Instead, Charlie met eyes of mocking. He was yet again, alone. "Point taken, Professor. How are your studies?"

"Still at Princeton. I'm head chair, tenure. I also have recently published yet another book. You can't seem to do the same. Perhaps it's an age thing. You have always been so young."

Recognizing the behavior of defensive, insecure people was one matter, reacting well to said challenges was another. Charlie raised his eyebrows and stood his ground, "It must have been very difficult seeing someone at age thirteen know more in one year's worth of work then your life time's worth of work. Publishing is a game that I chose to leave myself from. I have actualy mathematical applications to deal with."

Pfohl glared, "And what are you implying? You're not as good as you think you are, Charles. Being a prodigy does not mean you are great, it merely means you are different then those who actually must work for their results. I feel us 'common' folk have the better end of the stick."

"I imply nothing, Professor." Charlie responded tersely, "I do not claim to be better than anyone else."

One of the other men chimed in, and said, "On the contrary, You do because you are. Leave the field for the rest of us, Dr. Eppes."

Charlie nodded, "I think it's time for me to go. If these lectures of mine are so daunting to you, then I reccomend you stop attending."

The three men laughed at Charlie's anger and turned, whispering what Charlie assumed were demeaning and condescending comments. Charlie turned to the stairwell and began to march up the stairs to his 8th story hotel room.

Remembering the public terrace on the fifth floor, Charlie made his way out, after purchasing a drink. He leaned against the railing, looking out on the city. He was trying to calm himself down, knowing that Pfohl merely felt lesser to him and needed to push him down to feel better about himself. It was a classic bully tactic, one that Charlie had experiences many times within his life. He sipped his drink, attempting to quelch the anger in his chest. He knew that he was not normal. He knew that older egotistically professors found it hard when their own knowledge was surpassed by a teenager's. He knew that he was a target, he had just hoped that it would stop hurting with age. Charlie rubbed his temples. He could fix this. He knew he could. The world was about balance. His mere existence challenged that balance, and he knew he could make it better. He knew what actions to take to return the equilibrium.

Charlie reverie was interrupted by a small voice. Charlie turned at the sound of his name to see a small boy. He was fourteen or fifteen, and probably weighed ninety pounds soaking wet. He had messy red hair and large green eyes, with a face coated in freckles. He spoke again, "Dr. Eppes, I'm sorry to bother you... if you're busy, I can go..."

Charlie shook his head, "No, No, I'm not busy. I'm just brooding."

The boy and him shared a laugh before the boy continued, "My name is Conrad Ruttenberg. I attended your lecture, and just wanted to say that it was probably the best lecture I've been to."

Charlie blinked a few times, realizing that he was staring at himself. "Really? Thank you. I quite enjoy giving them. What school do you go to?"

"Princeton. I came with my professor-"

"Pfohl?" Charlie finished for the young man.

Conrad nodded then scrunched up his face, "He's a smart guy, but he's kindof an -"

"Ass? Yeah. I know. He was my professor as well. Kept claiming that he taught me everything I know." Charlie paused. He shouldn't be talking poorly of Pfohl in front of his students, "Hey Conrad, no matter what he says to you, try not to take it to heart. In fact, work harder to outsmart him as much as possible."

Conrad grinned widely, "I don't have to work that hard to do that."

Charlie laughed out loud, "I knew you had promise."

Conrad blushed and looked down. "So he used to make fun of you in class and try to make an example of you as well?"

Charlie nodded, "Most people did. I started princton when I was around your age. I know how... lonely you can feel. unsympathetic professors make life difficult."

Conrad nodded and Charlie noticed the younger man clenching his fists. "Sometimes I get so angry, as if things will never change and I'll forever be this... genetic anomaly."

Charlie paused, his eyes crinkled in sympathy, "Hey, you're not much different from me. I really enjoy my work, and my life. I love using my knowledge in the real world. Such as when I do FBI consulting."

Conrad's eyes widened, "Cool! FBI! Do you get to shoot a gun?"

Charlie shook his head, "no no no... I don't want to touch those things. I shot one once and it was... well exciting but then I almost got shot and that wasn't much fun. It was scary."

Conrad nodded, as if in agreement, but Charlie knew that he still thought guns and Feds were cool. Charlie grinned, "You're a smart kid, survive if you can. I won't lie to you, not many people are going to understand you. When you find those who do, don't let them go."

Conrad smiled, "Thanks, Dr. Eppes."

"Call me Charlie."

"Ok Charlie. I'll thank you in my dissertation. I've used parts of your MIT lectures." Conrad grinned and ran off back to his parents.

Charlie blinked... dissertation? That kid was seriously brilliant. More brilliant than Charlie had been at his age. Charlie turned back to the scenery. He hoped that he had brightened Conrad's day, even if he knew that Conrad might not survive the torment of brilliancy. Charlie thought back to the 18 year old prodigy who died two months ago. He had killed himself after recieving his third PhD. There was also the nine year old girl who killed herself so that her organs could be donated. She had passed college first year biology right before she did it. Charlie hoped that Conrad would make it. He seemed to be affected by other people's opinions a great deal. Genius and sensitivity were a deadly mix at times. Charlie finished his drink and threw it away, before returning to his room. He shut the door and rubbed his face. He was beginning to hate these lectures, when in the past he loved them.

Charlie walked to his backpack and began to pick through his wallet of business cards. He pulled out one for a doctor - an under the table doctor. Charlie flipped it between his fingers. If he wanted the frontal lobe surgery to be done, it had to be an illegal procedure. The results were high risk. Thinking of the taunting of the past twenty years, Charlie dialed the number. Soon, he'd be normal, and he wouldn't have to suffer any more. Charlie, as he made the appointment, hoped that Conrad would be stronger.


	5. MisStep

fic: misStep (searching for a better title)

part five of the Step Series

which is the sequel to the Barrier Series

by ELISE

rated PG

summary: Charlie goes to the doctor.

I dont own numb3rs.

V.

Larry untucked his hawaiian shirt as he entered Charlie's office. Clutched to his chest with his free hand, were folders of papers. "Charles? Charles, I need some help!"

Larry walked to Charlie's desk, plopping the papers. He began to open them, talking outloud, "I've got quite the inquiry."

After recieving no response, Larry looked up to an empty office. His eyebrows furrowed together and he sighed. Charlie had forgotten yet again about their meeting. Larry walked around the office, dialing Charlie's cell. His friend had apparently turned his phone off, or perhaps never turned it on that morning. Larry roamed around a bit more, looking at the knick-knacks around the office. He picked up the pewter hand that held notes. There was a pecular business card for some surgeon. Larry blinked. Earlier the math professor had lied about a psychology project. He had claimed that he was using prodigy studies and brain surgery as research for a prodigy project. The psychology department, in fact, had no such study. Larry flipped the card in his hands. Usually he would respect Charlie's ever growing need for privacy, but with all the strange behavior and the presence of a surgeon's card, Larry began to worry. Larry picked up Charlie's date book and opened it to today's date. Immediately his face paled and he quickly dialed Don's cell phone.

Charlie nervously wrung his hands, his foot tapping. In normal circumstances, he would have thought the presence of the magazines as he waited for his "doctor" was humorous. Then again, there was no such thing as normal circumstances where he was. He knew what he was doing was illegal. He knew what he was doing was dangerous. He knew that he'd never be the same, and that's what he wanted. A large man came from a door to his left, dressed in torn jeans and sat down beside him. Charlie looked at him, weakly smiled, and then looked down. The man cleared his throat and turned to him, flicking a lighter and lighting a cigarette. "Want one?"

Charlie smiled and shook his head no. He began to focus on his wringing hands again. The man spoke again, "Whatcha hear for?"

Charlie shrugged, "Brain surgery."

The man raised his eyebrows, "You realize how dangerous that is?"

Charlie looked up and nodded. "Yeah, Yeah I do."

The man shrugged, "Your choice. You know you might die."

Charlie blinked a few times, "I'm aware. How about you?"

The man grinned, revealing missing front teeth. "I'm just fixing an old mistake."

Charlie nodded and waited, while the man beside him flicked his lighter a few more times. It was a few minutes more before a woman with dyed red hair came over and led him into a dingy yellow room. She smiled and shut the door. "Hello, I'm Marcy."

Charlie waved and sat down on the cot. He cleared his throat, "I thought it'd be cleaner."

"Oh you'll be fine. Dr. Ruffalo has done this a dozen times."

Charlie nodded, "I'm a little nervous."

"As well you should be, it's normal. Now, before we start the procedure, there are a few things you need to know. First off, you will keep this place and what happens here in absolute confidence. We are a private firm and would like to keep it that way." Marcy coughed a bit and then cleared her throat, continuing, "Secondly, we need the money upfront."

Charlie opened up his back pack, revealing it to be filled with bills. "Just... lets get to it, ok?"

Marcy grinned, flipped through the dollar bills and then called out the door. "Doc" Ruffalo walked in. He seemed to be in his forties, with long tied back black hair and cutting eyes. His fingers were wrapped in bandages and Charlie shut his eyes. Doc had large muscles, and a tight tank top, with torn jeans as well. Charlie physically backed away, gulping. He wasn't feeling very safe anymore. He began to shake slightly. He thought of Alan, and Don, Amita and Larry... He thought of the solarium and the koi pond. He thought of Conrad, a young prodigy from Princeton. He thought of all the people who loved him, and all the good times he had. He thought of the awards, and the consulting. If he had this procedure done, those would all be over. He might die. Doc raised an eyebrow, "Charlie? You look a little nervous. Don't be."

"I... I... I think I'm going to... I'm having second thoughts." Charlie stuttered.

Doc looked at Marcy and smirked, "Doesn't everyone."

"No really," Charlie tried again, "I can't go through with this. I mean, I'll just take the money, and go. No harm, no foul."

Doc turned to Marcy and laughed, "You think you're walking out of that door with a backpack of money that belongs to me."

Charlie's breathing was speeding up, his heart rate matching. "Please," He begged, "You can keep the money."

Marcy was setting up the gas mask and grinned, "Sweetie, we can't have you talking about this place either."

Doc moved towards Charlie, taking the mask from Marcy. "The procedure will go ahead as planned."

Charlie tried to stand, when he realized that two more men had entered the room. "No, please, I'll do anything. Just stop this, stop this please!"

Doc walked forward and indicated to the two men that they should hold Charlie down. Charlie began to scream as Doc placed the mask onto his face. Thick tears rolled down his face as he felt his eyes droop, and the sounds disappearing. His last memory confused him, for he smelled smoke. Perhaps those were hallucinations. He gave a last prayer to God for forgiveness. Soon, he fell into darkness.

Marcy sighed, "He was cute too."

She picked up the razor and began to shave his hair off, preparing for the surgery.

Don shook in anger and fear. He glared at the building, knowing that the basement stairs led to an illegal medical office. He also knew that his arsonist was going to hit here. The profile was that he was a large male, white, obsession with fire, five foot ten. Witnesses said that they saw him by the scene of the crime, flickin his zippo, apparently the flame that started it all. Don's phone rang and he picked up, hearing Larry's voice frantically warning him. Don's face grew serious and his eyes full of worry. He stood up, shutting the phone off and changed the orders, "David. I'm going in."

David looked at him from across the street, "What? That's crazy. Our guy might be burning it right now."

Don looked at the building. He saw a faint stream of smoke. "David, Charlie is in there. I've gotta go in. Call the fire trucks now, get the ambulance now."

Don raced down stairs, feeling the door. It was cold, so he pushed his way in, gun up. Two agents followed behind the experienced agent. Don ran through the first room, "Clear!"

The smoke was getting thicker as he went into the second room, realizing what was on fire. There was a couch and a bunch of magazines on fire. Don took his gun out, radioing in that the arsonist was around. One of the agents pointed, "He's there!"

Don looked up to see their suspect running down a hallway. Don signalled his two agents to follow their man. Don instead started yelling Charlie's name. He opened up a door, to see a man standing above a person, with a scalpal. There was a girl smoking, legs crossed, counting money from, Don noted in horror, Charlie's backpack. Don pointed the gun, "BACK OFF! FBI!"

Marcy looked up and swore, running from the room through a back door. Doc stood his ground, scalpal raised. "YOU SET MY OFFICE ON FIRE!" He yelled, infuriated, "I can smell the smoke! You back up, or I kill this man."

Don walked in, eyes trained on the man. "Put the knife down. It's over. An Arsonist started this fire, and the place is going up, so drop the knife and I can get you out of here."

Doc shook his head, "Never!"

He raised the scalpal and slammed it down, but not before the bullets from Don's gun hit him. Don ran forward, gun still trained on the man standing over his brother. Don looked at his brother, who was thin and weak, his skin pale. His curls had been shaved off. His eyes were shut, and there were deep tear lines down his face. Don gasped for air, mainly due to the fire, as well as in despair. Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder and he turned. There were fire men. Don pointed at the man on the ground and then lift his brother, placing him over his shoulder. The smoke was getting thicker and he began to choke. The fire fighters threw over them a fire resistant blanket and led them out. Once outside, Don took a deep breath. David rushed to him, taking Charlie from his arms, leading the two to the ambulance. Don was shaking, David with a hand on his shoulder. Don began to speak, "He did it. He was there to get an illegal surgery... He was going to kill himself."

David blinked, "Don, Don, it's alright. You saved him. Lets get you some oxygen, and you'll both go to the hospital."

"He was going to have his frontal lobes removed." Don rubbed his face, "I can't believe it... Larry... oh god, I gotta call Alan."

David nodded, squeezing his shoulder and helping the EMT place the oxygen mask on Don's face. Charlie was being attended to, already in the ambulance. David helped the older agent inside, and shut the ambulance doors, patting it as it rushed to the hospital.

They had caught their serial arsonist. They had shut down the illegal hospital, apprehending all employees. Yet, this felt more like a failure than anything else. David had never seen Don lose his cool as he just did. It was also terrifying seeing their Charlie, weak, passed out, bald in Don's arms. David rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. Another agent walked up to David. It was Agent Kerry Ruez. She was Terry's replacement. "Agent Sinclair, Both of them will be fine. An EMT told me that he was just under laughing gas."

David looked at the agent and scoffed, "Charlie went to an illegal hospital to have brain surgery. He is far from being fine."

David stormed to his car, on his way to pick up Alan. Whereas the Eppes boys health would eventually be fine, Charlie's mental health was an entirely different story.


	6. Final Step

Final Step.

part six of six in the STEP SERIES

sequel to the Barrier series

author: Elise

rated G

summary: Home.

comments deeply appreciated.

vi.

Three weeks had past, and Alan should have known not to keep his hopes up. Charlie had shown some improvement, but not much. After a week of apologizing, Charlie had now resorted to mournful and regretful looks. Everyone had forgiven him for his disguised suicide. Everyone was equally proud of him for attempting to stop the illegal surgery. It was the silence that surrounded Charlie that disturbed Alan. Not only did most people not know what to say, Charlie himself remained quiet most of the time.

Amita had taken his courses for the Fall semester in lue of his medical leave. She was a blessing in the household because Charlie had refused to resign as her thesis advisor and would look forward to her visits every day. Whereas they discussed business only, it was still a welcomed change to the regimen of silence Charlie surrounded himself in. His steps were lighter and his eyes would gleam a bit more whenever he saw her progress with the degree. He obviously felt pride in her work, if not more, Alan was sure of that.

Alan lifted the ice tea tray, balancing it towards the backyard. Charlie had taken to spending part of his day out there, on a lawn chair, enjoying the backyard and the warm air. His hair was slowly growing back, but it was still a shock - and a harsh reminder - to see it. When Alan had first seen Charlie home, he marvelled at his son's bald head. They had kept him in the psych ward for three days before allowing him to move to the Eppes Household. Charlie was on some very serious medications, and most likely would for the rest of his life. That was a blessing itself. Perhaps there was a chance for Charlie to get better and healthy. Putting on an encouraging smile, Alan walked to his son, placing the tray down. "Beautiful day, isn't it, Charlie? Ice tea?"

Charlie looked over, his expression sadder than usual. He took the ice tea and sipped it, before placing it down. He opened his mouth to speak then shut it. Alan's heart broke as he saw his youngest struggle with the words. Alan cleared his own throat, "It's alright, Charlie. You don't have to talk now, if you don't want to."

Charlie bit his lip and said quietly, his voice shaky, "Dad... I want to get better. I'm so tired of feeling terrible."

Alan blinked back some tears. Not only was that the most Charlie had spoken his entire time home, it was a breakthrough in terms of Charlie admitting his true feelings. Alan cleared his throat again, choosing his words carefully, "You can, Charlie. It'll take time, but we're all here for you."

"Seeing the laughing gas mask wasn't the last thing I saw before they tried to give me the procedure dad... I saw you and Don at dinner, laughing. I remembered the good times. I remembered how proud I was of Don when he got accepted into the FBI. I remember all the late night coffees with Amita and Larry... The consulting gigs... my classes and wonderful students."

"Sounds like you like a lot of things here. You sound like you have a lot of good memories." Alan pointed out.

"I want more memories, Dad. I thought I was so alone." Charlie sniffed, trying to hold back his own tears.

Alan stood up and knelt by his son, placing his hands on his shoulders, letting Charlie know that it was okay to share with him. Charlie turned into his father's shoulder and rested there. "I was wrong, Dad. I'm not alone. Amita and Larry... they understand the academic side, sure, but you all know me. You know how I react. You know what makes me happy."

"That's right. It's because we love you." Alan said, letting his own tears slip through, thanking the heavens for Charlie.

"You know that I like my ice tea with mint leaves... its simple, but it's one of those small quirks that reminds me that you know me. You know that I love working with Amita, and doing math, despite how much I resent it. That's why I can still work as her advisor."

Alan smiled, "I've known you for thirty years, Charlie. All of your quirks. They're worth something."

Charlie nodded, "I'm going to make some changes. I... I want to continue with the psychiatrist. Use the medications they gave me. I also want to start running... maybe a marathon."

Alan grinned, "Those sound like great ideas."

"I mean, I've an entire semester off. Maybe I can volunteer with you? Or see Don on his lunch breaks... go to museums... or take Amita to dinner." Charlie's voice, still small, was growing in enthusiasm.

Alan laughed in joy, "Of course, all of those things, and more. You're going to be alright, Charlie. I promise you. Now I need you to make a promise to me."

Charlie turned to his father, looking up confused, "What?"

"I need you, whenever you panic, whenever you want to end things, to find me. Immediately. If I'm not here, whatever the circumstances, you need to find Don." Alan looked at his son Charlie directly in the eyes.

Charlie's bottom lip quivered and he nodded, "Yes. I promise."

The two men embraced and realized that obstacles should always be viewed as stepping stones instead of barriers.

the end.

thank you to everyone who responded. These have been so much fun to write! I adore you all! I am, in essence, a fan of you.


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